


Flying Blind (And Making It Up As I Go)

by AssassinOfRome



Series: Holding Up The Universe [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Ahsoka Tano Needs a Hug, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Amputee Anakin, Anakin Skywalker Needs a Hug, Black Ahsoka, C3PO is a dog, Cody needs a hug, Mixed Families, Obi Wan is Doing His Best, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Obi-Wan Kenobi is a Mess, Other, R2D2 is a cat, Satine Kryze Needs a Hug, Single Dad Obi Wan Kenobi, Well Single Brother Obi Wan Kenobi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:55:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22621366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AssassinOfRome/pseuds/AssassinOfRome
Summary: "Sleep hadn’t come easily to Obi Wan Kenobi for the better part of a decade, but it certainly was much easier when he didn’t have a toddler jumping up and down on his back, pulling at his hair."Tasked with raising a teenage Anakin and a toddler Ahsoka alone, Obi Wan struggles to remember who he was before all this responsibility was thrust on him. Luckily, a figure from his past is back to help him out.
Relationships: CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi, CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi/Satine Kryze, CC-2224 | Cody/Satine Kryze, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Satine Kryze, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker, Qui-Gon Jinn/Tahl (Star Wars)
Series: Holding Up The Universe [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1645087
Comments: 48
Kudos: 390





	1. Another Stellar Conversation For The Scrapbook

Sleep hadn’t come easily to Obi Wan Kenobi for the better part of a decade, but it certainly was much easier when he didn’t have a toddler jumping up and down on his back, pulling at his hair. 

“Obi Obi Obi Obi!” Ahsoka sang into his ear, her little feet digging into his palm. Obi Wan groaned, forcing a single eye open. The ominous red glow of his bedside clock stabbed into his brain. 7:45. At least Ahsoka had shown some restraint. It wasn’t her fault he hadn’t crawled into bed until 3:30. 

That didn’t give her free reign to start jumping on his stomach the second he rolled over though, he thought as she landed squarely on his ribs, knocking the air out of his lungs. The huffing moan he made seemed to get her to pause though, and she sat, straddled against him, her little forehead pressed against his. 

“Morning!” She chirped, bright blue eyes boring into his. She had no right to still be cute after such a performance, but when she nuzzled into his chest as he sat up, he couldn’t quite bring himself to be completely cross with her. “Brek-brek?” 

“Alright, alright I’m up, little one.” He mumbled, supporting her back with one arm as he scrubbed his face with another. God, he needed either to commit to this beard or shave it off – the stubble was killing him. “Is Anakin awake?” 

“Nuh-uh.” Ahsoka locked her arms around his neck as he stood, and stretched what few muscles he could without jolting her. In truth, she was getting a bit too big to be carried like this, but he wasn’t about to let her go. His back did give a loud click though, as he tried to stretch his shoulders. “Brek-brek! Pancake?”

“If we’ve got tim-“ Obi Wan froze, and twisted sharply, ignoring another crack from his spine as he stared in horror at the clock. 

7:55. 

School started at 8:30, and was at least a twenty minute walk. 

“ANAKIN!” Obi Wan hollered, settling Ahsoka on his hip as he frantically shoved on jeans and his trainers, thanking every god in existence that he’d slept in clean underwear. He struggled to fasten his jeans one handed as he banged on Anakin’s door with his foot, hearing a rumble from within. “Anakin get up; we’re late!” 

“No pancake?” Ahsoka asked, and Obi Wan sighed, stroking a little white patch on her cheek. Was it just his eyes, or was her vitiligo getting worse? Not that he had time to stop and worry about that now – he had lunches to collect from the fridge and schoolbags to pack. 

And one very grumpy teenager to wake. 

“Anakin, you’ve got five minutes or we’re leaving without you!” Obi Wan winced, hating his own tone but being able to do precious little to alter it. He’d felt himself getting increasingly irritated by Anakin over the last few months, but it wasn’t entirely the boy’s fault so he’d tried to keep his temper more firmly in check. Unfortunately, all that seemed to do was give Anakin even more licence to ignore him, and led to mornings like this one. 

If Obi Wan got anymore on the back foot, he’d trip over himself. 

Hauling himself through the flat as fast as he could without breaking his or Ahsoka’s necks, he raced to the kitchen, and gently sat her down on the counter with a banana and a cup of milk. It was hardly the most filling breakfast, but he simply didn’t have time to make toast. He set aside another banana and a granola bar for Anakin and started pawing around in the fridge for the packed lunches, only to find nothing. Of course – of course he’d forgotten to make them too. 

Stopping for a second, Obi Wan forced himself to take one, two, three deep breaths. Panicking wouldn’t solve anything. 

By the time he closed the fridge, Anakin was stood in the doorway, sleepily rubbing his eyes and flexing his modified prosthetic hand, the sensitive finger joints he’d built responding quickly. He must have fallen asleep in his clothes again, dark jeans and t-shirt completely rumpled. Thank God Anakin’s school didn’t have a strict uniform policy. His dark golden hair stood up on end, and half of his face was puffy from where he’d been lying on it. Still, he wasn’t too tired to shoot Obi Wan a truly impressive glare. 

“What are you-“ 

“Eat.” He pressed the fruit towards Anakin, glancing nervously at the kitchen clock. 8:05 – shit, they really were pushing it, especially with no lunch. Obi Wan prayed he had enough in his wallet and wouldn’t have to stop at a cashpoint. “Come on, we’re late! Where’s your backpack?” 

“I don’t-“ 

“Please don’t say you’ve lost it again. Anakin, that backpack is your life! It’s got all your schoolwork in, all your medicines – you need to be more careful with it!” 

“I haven’t lost it!” Anakin growled, slamming the fruit down on the counter hard enough that it splatted. Ahsoka looked up from her own gummy banana and blinked between them, her cheery gurgles falling silent. 

“Fine, no breakfast then.” Obi Wan sniffed, trying not to think about how sticky the counter would be by the time he got back to wipe it off. Fuck, what if they got ants? “Grab it and let’s go.” 

“Why are we-“ 

“Anakin, I’m not arguing this morning.” Settling Ahsoka on his hip and wiping her fruit-smeared cheeks with his sleeve, he carried her through the kitchen and caught sight of Anakin’s black backpack loitering at the doorway. How many times did he have to tell him not to keep it there? It was such an easy trip hazard, especially for Ahsoka. With his spare hand, he tossed the bag towards Anakin and reached for his keys, unlocking the door and nudging Anakin through. With a huff, Anakin trudged down the short few flights of stairs to the bottom of the apartment building. leaving Obi Wan behind as he secured the flat and slipped Ahsoka onto his shoulders. She gabbled happily, playing with handfuls of his hair as he jogged to catch up. 

“Look, I’m sorry I was snappy but you know how stressful mornings are.” Obi Wan glanced around the deserted street, stomach clenching. Of course there was no-one around; it wasn’t like snotty Karen from the penthouse flat would ever be caught dead delivering her kids to school late. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

“You wanted me to wake you?” Anakin coolly raised an eyebrow. “That’s a change.” 

“Anakin, there’s a difference between waking me up when I’ve overslept through the school run, and keeping me awake at 3am with one of your caterwauling ponk bands-“ 

“It’s punk, Obi Wan, God!” Anakin rolled his eyes and stalked ahead, pouting. Obi Wan sighed, and glanced up at Ahsoka. 

“I wonder how long I’ve got until you start to despise me.” He asked, and she frowned down at him, poking the middle of his forehead. 

“Pancakes.” She scowled solemnly and he sighed. 

About four and a half seconds, it seemed. 

*

The rest of the walk – well, run – passed in agonising silence. It seemed like every person who crossed their path had a special scowl for Obi Wan, even the dog walkers holding bags of shit. Anakin darting into the road just before the crossing made Obi Wan dive after him, the driver who had nearly collided with them cussing and beeping his horn over Obi Wan’s apologies. It had also started to rain, and Ahsoka whined as cold fat droplets splashed onto her. Her discomfort manifested as sharp tugs on Obi Wan’s hair, but he didn’t have the energy to chastise her. In truth, his head was throbbing already, so her little pulls didn’t make much difference. For the last few meters, Anakin decided to drop his pace to a crawl; Obi Wan had seen rocks move faster. 

“Come on Anakin – I know you hate school but for once, could you please –“ Obi Wan rounded a corner and came face to face with a completely empty school parking lot. 

There wasn’t a human being in sight – not a student or a teacher or a parent milling around. None of the classroom lights were on, and blinking through the rain, Obi Wan saw the gates were padlocked shut. They couldn’t be that late surely. 

Obi Wan glanced down at his watch, which confirmed they were only a few minutes behind. And there was no way it was running slowly – it had been his last birthday present from Qui Gon, and he kept it in perfect condition. Surely he wasn’t the only person to have overslept? He squinted at the face, before his eyes drifted to the little calendar that covered the right-hand side of the clock. 

14th November. Saturday 14th November. 

It was Saturday. 

Turning around he saw Anakin leaning against a lamppost, smirking. God, he was getting so tall too – in a few weeks he would be towering over Obi Wan, and wouldn’t that inflate his ego? 

“Ready to go home?” He asked; even the freezing rain couldn’t chill his smug sunny smile. Gently, he eased Ahsoka off Obi Wan’s shoulders and placed them on his own, where she sat giggling down at him. In return, Anakin tossed his backpack at Obi Wan, hitting him in the stomach. “Come on, ‘Soka, let’s get you those pancakes. I think Obi Wan needs a bit of time to properly wake up.” 

As Anakin trotted down the street back towards their apartment building, Obi Wan shouldered the backpack and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to soothe the throbbing in his skull. Suddenly the rain was quite soothing on his burning cheeks, but by the time they reached the lobby, he was shiveringly cold. He didn’t plan on standing around in the stairwell, but Anakin fumbled to unlock the door, struggling to balance and keep Ahsoka still with only his metal hand. The brief pause was long enough for Obi Wan to glance at the flat below, and notice a surprising absence. 

“Someone’s bought the second floor flat.” He blinked at where the “for sale” sign had been only days before, irritatingly askew. Still, considering how long it had been up, it was a surprise it had still stayed up at all. 

“You notice that but you don’t notice that it’s Saturday?” Anakin called from the hallway, and Obi Wan slipped in, seeing Anakin’s muddy shoes spread akimbo across the floor. Toeing off his own trainers, he set both pairs neatly on the shoe rack, and poked his head into the kitchen, where Anakin was pulling down flour and sugar from one of the cabinets. Ahsoka was sat on the counter, waving a spoon around. 

“Don’t make them too sweet; we don’t need either of you getting cavities.” Obi Wan muttered to himself, grabbing the kettle and filling it with water. Tea, that’s what he needed. A good strong hot cup of tea. Then he’d be himself. He chose to ignore Anakin and Ahsoka sticking their tongues out at him. 

“Sure thing, old man.” Anakin rolled his eyes, which made Ahsoka giggle. As they sifted flour and cracked eggs, Obi Wan opened the nearest cupboard, digging around until he found a battered box of ibuprofen. Popping out two little pills, he swallowed them dry and tossed the now empty packet into the bin. Reaching for one of the many pencils he had stuck to the cupboards, he neatly crossed the name off the list attached to the cupboard and added it to the fairly hefty shopping list. The familiar process brought at least a moment of peace to his heart. 

“You’ll get a stomach-ache if you keep taking painkillers without eating.” Anakin didn’t turn around, pouring the batter into the pan, where it sizzled enticingly. If Obi Wan’s stomach gave a muted growl, he ignored it. That was until a wet snout pressed up against his hip. 

“I was wondering where you two had gotten to.” Obi Wan allowed himself to smile fondly as the golden Labrador nuzzled at his jeans. Three could at least be counted on to gently butt his head against Obi Wan’s thigh in morning greeting, before sitting by Anakin’s legs, watching as he flipped pancakes. Artie followed a moment later, though he tried to make it seem like he hadn’t been following Three. Obi Wan swore he was the only member of the family who had somehow managed to gain weight after… after Qui Gon. The cat was fatter than ever, a round ball of fluff that wound around Obi Wan’s ankles and beeped incessantly until his bowl had been filled. He groaned – had he done this already? His head ached trying to think about it. Still, he grabbed the two pet food bags and filled the bowls evenly. The cat and dog dug in eagerly, their tails twitching in unison. 

“Seeing as a lovely early morning stretches out ahead of us, I think I might head to my room and try to get some work done. Are you alright to watch Ahsoka for a few hours?” Opening another drawer, Obi Wan grabbed some kitchen wipes and started to mop up the sticky banana remnants, dropping its abused peel into the bin. 

“Padmé’s coming round at ten to get started with our History project.” Anakin stacked the pancakes on a plate – luckily he’d remembered to make them smaller for Ahsoka. He hadn’t quite recalled not to give her the syrup bottle though, and Obi Wan winced as sticky amber liquid trickled all over the toddler’s hands. His fingers itched to wipe her hands, but he could feel the tension in Anakin’s shoulders and decided not to push it. 

“Padmé’s coming over? Again.” Obi Wan swallowed, and glanced around the cluttered kitchen. It wasn’t dirty – there was no chance in Hell Obi Wan would ever let that happen – but their little flat was so… full. Qui Gon and Tahl had collected so many trinkets on their travels, and coupled with Anakin’s scraps of engineering projects and Ahsoka’s baby toys, the home felt full of objects that Obi Wan desperately wanted to tuck away into little boxes. He’d only been to the Amidala household briefly when collecting Anakin from study days, but it had all been so neat and clean. There was no way Padmé’s parents had odd stains on the rugs, or out of date spices, or mould spidering across the ceiling. They certainly didn’t worry about ants. 

“I thought you said she was a good influence.” Anakin finally turned, and Obi Wan could see a muscle jumping in his jaw. He and Padmé had been friends since they were Ahsoka’s age, but over the last year or so, they’d been getting increasingly close. Usually, Obi Wan encouraged it, but something didn’t quite feel right. 

“She is. I just –“ Obi Wan yanked open the fridge so that Anakin couldn’t see him biting his lip. His anxiety over Padmé quickly shifted as he realised just how empty the shelves were. When had he got so behind on groceries? He’d have to pick something up this evening before the gym, otherwise there would be nothing left to eat come dinnertime. “I take it she’s staying for dinner?” 

“With your cooking? No way.” Anakin scoffed and Obi Wan winced again. In truth, Anakin had every right to be sceptical – in the last week alone Obi Wan had undercooked chicken, overcooked mac and cheese, and somehow burned soup. Sighing, he closed the door and saw Anakin hadn’t soothed. “Padmé and I were going to head out to Mos Eisely tonight.”

“What? No, Anakin – I need you home to-“ 

“I’m not your babysitter!” Anakin snapped, eyes flashing. “I’ve got my own life, Obi Wan. I’m not Ahsoka’s guardian – you are.” Anakin stepped away from the burner and poked Obi Wan in the chest. “Qui Gon left you in charge, as you so love to remind me, because you’re the oldest. You’re the big brother, so all of this –“ He waved a hand around the kitchen. “Is your job. You can’t just expect me to sit around at your beck and call all the time.” 

“Anakin, I’m not asking you to-“ 

“Yes you are!” Anakin folded his arms, metal hand clasping around his bicep. “What’s so important that you need to get me to stay in? Let me guess – gym, groceries, half a packet of cigarettes by the dumpster downstairs. Maybe try and see if Ventress will give you a pity fuc-“ 

“No! No fighting!” Before Obi Wan could reply, Ahsoka wailed out, putting her hands over her ears. Both brothers stopped, and turned to her. Three sat up, nudging at her toes concernedly. Even Artie looked concerned. 

“It’s okay, ‘soka; we’ll stop.” Obi Wan gave Anakin a pointed look, as he ran his fingers through Ahsoka’s curls. The younger brother rolled his eyes but nodded tersely, stroking her cheek with his flesh hand. 

“See, no more yelling.” He smiled at her, and Obi Wan marvelled at how he could slip into such softness. “Obi’s going to go do some work and we’ll have pancakes and watch Peppa Pig, okay? And then in a bit, Padmé’s coming over. You like Padmé, right?” 

“Pad-Pad!” Ahsoka chimed, a bright smile lighting up her face. Anakin shot him another smug smile but said nothing. “Do hair?”

“I’m sure Padmé will plait your hair if you ask nicely. But first we’ve got to eat!” Anakin gave her a kiss on the forehead, before turning back to the pan with a curse. The pancake sat smoking in the pan, its edges burnt beyond saving. Quickly, he fished it out onto the most chipped plate and wiped out the pan before starting again. “Obi Wan do you want-“ 

But when he glanced over his shoulder, Obi Wan was already gone, echoes coming from his bedroom as he buried himself in his work. In his place sat Three, whining softly. He rubbed his nose with the stump that was all that remained of his left front paw. 

“It’s okay, boy. He’s just grumpy because he got the day wrong. Now come here and eat this.” Anakin cut the edges off the pancake and set the chipped plate down for Three to snaffle at. 

If Artie shuffled off to follow Obi Wan, no-one noticed.

*

Leaning heavily over his desk, Obi Wan sighed, trying to rub the tension away from his temples. With all the fighting, he hadn’t even finished making his cup of tea – not that he would risk going back into the kitchen. He settled for some lukewarm dusty water sat in a cup on his desk, swishing it around his mouth as he stared at his calendar. 

Saturday. How could he have not known it was Saturday? Now that his pulse had stopped racing, he felt awful dragging Ahsoka and Anakin out of bed. He glanced at his clock – it wasn’t even 9am yet. Groaning, he stroked his jaw and opened a drawer, pulling out a battered old photo. 

They’d all been so happy then. True, Ahsoka hadn’t been born, but Tahl was rubbing her growing stomach with such pride, and Anakin had his little face pressed against the bump, smiling cheesily. Qui Gon looked equally fond, fingers interwoven with Tahl’s. His other arm was slung around Obi Wan’s shoulders, and if he closed his eyes, he could almost feel that warm familiar weight around him, squeezing tight. 

“What am I doing wrong, Dad?” He whispered gently, then froze, hoping no-one had heard. Anakin already thought he was crazy, with all his lists and rituals – he didn’t need to see Obi Wan chatting to a piece of paper. When nothing happened, he turned his gaze back down, squinting hard at the cracked faces. “I’m doing my best but… it’s not working. What… what else am I supposed to do?” 

The door creaked open, and Obi Wan shoved the photo back into the drawer, trying to look busy. But he needn’t have bothered – Artie still wound around his ankles, before leaping up onto his lap and curled up. His thick fur made him incredibly warm, and his gentle purrs soothed his aching stomach. Damn Anakin – he should have listened about the painkiller thing. 

He should have listened about a lot of things. 

Pushing back his too long fringe, Obi Wan pulled open his chunky clunky laptop, praying that it wouldn’t freeze up. He had at least three income reports to write, and was still 1,000 words short of his PhD thesis and- 

“Obi Wan? Obi Wan wake up.” The next thing Obi Wan knew was Anakin shaking his shoulder, looking a bit concerned as Obi Wan blinked. What had – when did he –  
He glanced at the clock and fought down a shriek. It was nearly noon and he hadn’t written a word. And now Anakin would want to head off with Padmé and he’d have no time to work with Ahsoka needing him so much and – 

“Obi Wan, focus!” Anakin snapped his fingers in front of Obi Wan’s eyes, making him flinch. Worst of all, he’d slept through his painkillers and now his head was throbbing worse than ever. Still, he forced himself to concentrate, trying to school his features into something approaching serene. 

“I’ll be out in a second, let me just save up so you and Padmé can go.” He glanced at his computer screen and was surprised to see some words there. Shame that they didn’t mean anything, being more keysmashes than actual phrases. 

“Padmé and I ordered pizza – we’re staying here tonight.” Anakin shook his head dismissively and tried to pull Obi Wan to his feet. The jolting movement made Obi Wan’s head spin. “The new neighbour’s here and they want to speak with you!” 

“New neighbour?” Obi Wan muttered, pushing back his hair and glancing down at himself. He was still wearing his sleep shirt – an oversized sweater with some indie band Qui Gon used to love printed on the front in faded lettering. Still, with the jeans he looked a little more presentable, and his mismatched socks could be considered cute and quirky, rather than the work of dressing in the dark. 

Following Anakin through to the living room, Obi Wan’s eyes darted around the room. Three and Artie were napping together, the cat nuzzled up against the puppy’s belly and the dog’s single front paw clung protectively around the cat’s back. Padmé was on the only armchair, Ahsoka sat between her knees with her hair half braided. 

And perched on the sofa, holding the prettiest teacup they owned, was a person Obi Wan hadn’t seen in nearly half a decade. 

“Ben? Ben Kenobi?” They smiled, and Obi Wan’s heart fluttered. “I hoped it was you. It’s good to see you again.” 

The rushing in Obi Wan’s ears doubled, then tripled, his vision growing fuzzy. The last thing he knew before he sagged to the floor was a pair of gentle hands around his waist, catching him as he fell.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lingering outside of the doorway, Satine felt almost naked. The rail was pelting down even harder now, and it came with a chill she simply hadn’t experienced before. They had rain in Mandalore, obviously, but not this… frigid. 
> 
> Trying to focus, she read for the fifteenth time the tiny little label that sat just below the doorbell for the third floor flat. Its writing was almost ridiculously small; she had never seen so many surnames squished onto one label before. Each seemed to have a different handwriting attached. ‘Jinn’ was written in wide sloping hand, whereas ‘Tano’ was a lot squarer, the pen pressed hard into the paper. ‘Skywalker’ was quite shaky, the characters formed with very little confidence. 
> 
> And dead in the middle was the handwriting she knew best of all, equal parts flowing and cautious, free of flourishes but somehow still elegant. It had signed receipts and documents, had written her birthday cards, flashcards, love letters. 
> 
> Kenobi.

Sat in the middle of Satine Kryze’s immaculate new apartment was the fattest cat she had ever seen. 

She wasn’t even particularly sure how it had gotten in; she’d only just been given the keys herself, finally handed over by the suspicious estate agent. No-one seemed to believe that a woman of her standing would wish to buy an apartment in the poorer side of town. They’d kept trying to arrange visits to the finest penthouses the city had to offer, all sleek lines and chrome workspaces. Three months ago, she would have been tempted. Now, all she craved was warmth; cosy furniture, a fluffy carpet, and a home that hugged her against the chills of the night. 

Such domestic dreams, however, had not included pets. 

Setting down the last of her boxes, she stretched her hand out. The cat had been lounging on a tattered old rug Satine had planned on replacing, but now it turned to her, ears twitching. If she hadn’t known better, she’d have thought the cat was goading her; she could almost imagine the cocked eyebrow and smirk. After listening to Satine make the most absurd clicking and kissing noises, it eventually stood up, shook its bulk, and waddled over to her, making a strange beeping sound as it approached. 

“Who are you then?” She whispered, reaching down to stroke a downy ear. Now that it was closer, she could see the cat was a true beauty, soft grey fur mottled through with black stripes and magnificent blue eyes. Though the creature was overweight, most of its roundness was from its thick fur, which it allowed Satine to comb through, tail flicking happily. It was obviously tame, as it wound its way around her ankles, but it wore no collar, nor bore any other identifying labels. 

Except… except it seemed familiar. Satine didn’t recall where she’d seen the cat before, or even why she would have, but there was something about its markings that she recognised. When it gave a yawn, she could have sworn she’d seen its sleepy eyes and slightly crooked teeth before. 

“Who are you talking to?” Cody puffed as he eased himself and the enormous box in his arms through the narrow doorway. He’d volunteered to do most of the heavy lifting, though Satine had argued with him every step of the way. Wiping his forehead with the back of his hand, he frowned down at the cat. “I thought the lease said there would be no animals in this building.” 

“It’s just one widdle pussy cat.” The cat seemed to like the babytalk, mewing softly and licking her hand. A few moments later though, it pulled away from her and paused in front of Cody, blinking its large blue eyes. She had expected Cody to step back – he’d never liked cats – but instead, he peered down at the creature, an unreadable expression on his face. 

“You recognise it too, right?” She asked, fighting down a grin. Cody was perhaps the most honest person she’d ever met, and he wouldn’t have been able to hide his thoughts from her, even if he’d wanted to. She stood, and laced her fingers around his, squeezing his hand. 

“No.” The shorter man looked up at her, amber eyes suddenly cold. He let go of her and stepped out of her arms. “We’re not going down this road again, Teen.” 

“What road?” She frowned, as he started to fiddle with the boxes. Cody didn’t fiddle. “I was just thinking –“ 

“I know exactly what you were thinking.” He sighed, rubbing against the tattoo that curved around his eye. She could see the scar hidden underneath, but the tattoo curved elegantly around it, like it was all one big design. It was one of the most beautiful things she’d ever seen. “Is this why we came to London? So you could find him again?”

“If he’s anywhere, he’s here; you remember how he used to-“ She insisted, wanting to grab his shoulders and give him a shake. Hadn’t he been just as affected by this? Didn’t he care just as much as she did.

“That’s just it, Satine. Used to. He’s gone from our lives, has been for four years. If he cared, he would have called. Or left a note. Or messaged us. But he didn’t.” He closed his eyes, scar stretching. “And here I was thinking you moved for me.” 

“I did move for you.” She took up his hand again, and kissed it gently. “I love you. I love being with you, and I love our life together. I love that we made this choice to move, and I will always be grateful to you for choosing this with me.” She paused, and kissed again. “But I loved Ben too, and I know you loved him every bit as much as I did. So if there is even a hint of seeing him again, I will seek it out. And no-one – not you, not my family, not this bloody cat – is going to stop me.” 

The cat mewed indignantly, and jumped up on a box, preening. Cody sighed, and scratched it under the chin. 

“Ben loved this cat so much. Do you remember how we’d all curl up in bed, and he’d show us pictures of him? How his face would go all soft and not-serious for once – it was the only way we could get him to stop worrying about his finals.” He smiled fondly as the cat butted at his fingers. “Needy little thing, aren’t you? Just like your Papa.” 

“He’s here, Codes.” Satine wrapped her arms around his waist, as they both watched the cat demurely lick its paw. She’d loved that all the men she’d dated had been shorter than her – it made cuddling so much comfier. “How can we not at least try and find some answers?” 

“What he did was shitty, Satine.” Cody looked a little firmer now, even with the cat curled up at his feet. “You remember how terrified you were when he left? You thought he’d gotten sick, or died, or-“

“He must have had his reasons.”

“What reason is good enough to walk out on not one but two loving partners without so much as a goodbye?” Cody asked, and suddenly Satine couldn’t look at him. Instead, she straightened her back and shot him an equally fixed gaze. She hadn’t been Mandalore University’s Debate Captain for four years in a row for nothing. 

“I guess we’ll have to find out.” 

*

That, however, was much easier said than done.

Lingering outside of the doorway, Satine felt almost naked. The rail was pelting down even harder now, and it came with a chill she simply hadn’t experienced before. They had rain in Mandalore, obviously, but not this… frigid. 

Trying to focus, she read for the fifteenth time the tiny little label that sat just below the doorbell for the third floor flat. Its writing was almost ridiculously small; she had never seen so many surnames squished onto one label before. Each seemed to have a different handwriting attached. ‘Jinn’ was written in wide sloping hand, whereas ‘Tano’ was a lot squarer, the pen pressed hard into the paper. ‘Skywalker’ was quite shaky, the characters formed with very little confidence. 

And dead in the middle was the handwriting she knew best of all, equal parts flowing and cautious, free of flourishes but somehow still elegant. It had signed receipts and documents, had written her birthday cards, flashcards, love letters. 

Kenobi. 

Seeing it again was enough to make her breath catch in her throat. The cat, which had followed her out after some prompting from Cody, was nowhere to be found, though she doubted it had gone out into the rain. She suddenly felt very alone, and very cold. 

She wanted Cody. She wanted Mandalore. 

She wanted Ben. 

Taking a final step forward she prepared to ring the bell when - 

“Are you going to keep running up and down these stairs all day?” Satine nearly tripped down the stairs at the voice, and turned to see an older bald man staring at her, one eyebrow raised. 

“Oh, I’m sorry – I just –“ She found herself stammering to a halt, as the man squinted at her. From the wrinkles around his eyes, he did a lot of scowling. 

“What’s your business with Kenobi?” He asked, folding his arms. “You and your friend lawyers?” He paused again. “Social services?” 

“Neighbours.” She tucked her hair behind her ear, trying to seem as meek as possible. “We just wanted to introduce ourselves.” 

“Hmm.” The man’s expression didn’t change. “Give it an hour. That baby’s fussy, especially at mealtimes. Get breakfast over with, then say hello – he’ll thank you for it.” 

“Oh. Thank you, Mr-“ 

“Windu. Your landlord.” A slight sparkle entered the man’s eyes, and Satine swallowed. “Always nice to meet new tenants.” 

“Nice to meet you too sir.” She hoped he couldn’t see her blush up the stairs, but couldn’t help but call out as he turned to enter his apartment. “Oh sir! You wouldn’t… you wouldn’t happen to know if he’s… if he’s Ben Kenobi, would you?” 

“He’s never been called that while I’ve known him, and he’s lived here for twenty years.” He scowled again for a moment, then started to shut the door. “His name is Obi Wan. Get him some tea if you want to give him a housewarming gift. Or some whisky. God knows he needs it.” 

The door shut with a click, and Satine was left staring at the label. 

*

“Satine, it’s been thirty eight minutes – just sit down and have some toast.” 

“I just don’t understand it!” Satine threw her hands up in the air, before raking them through her hair. Fuck – there went the elaborate plaiting she’d spent the first twenty minutes of her isolation hyperfocusing on. “How can it not be Ben? How many Kenobis are there in London? And how many own the same cat?” 

“Maybe it’s a cousin.” Cody sighed, sipping his coffee. He winced at its bitterness. In the last few months, he’d been on a health kick, but she knew he hated having his coffee so unadorned. Lashings of cream and sugar – that’s what he liked. And Cody let himself have so few luxuries; she wished she could convince him to reinstate that one. “Maybe they’re relatives and he took the cat when something happened to B-“ 

“Nothing happened to Ben.” She said firmly, resisting the urge to stamp her foot. A shudder, starting in her spine and threatening to spread all through her shoulders, made her wrap her arms around herself. “You don’t think he’s-“ 

“I hope not. I really hope not.” Cody set down his mug and opened his arms. After a moment’s hesitation, she curled up on his lap, pressing her face into his neck. 

God, she loved this man. He had been her rock after Ben had disappeared; he and his brother had been the last people to keep looking for him, and had even been the ones to find out he’d flown back to England, through an uncle who worked at the airport. He had held her as she had sobbed at that news, stroking her hair and whispering words of comfort into her ear until the weeping stopped. 

He’d also been the person to convince her to let Ben go. She’d been all set to fly herself to London too, to search for him wherever she could. But Cody had cupped her face in his hands, and reminded her of all the things keeping her rooted in Mandalore. She’d been a term or so away from finishing her degree, and had a brilliant job opportunity lined up, as well as friends and family. He loved Mandalore as much as she did – loved its tumbling green hills and snowcapped mountains and shimmering beaches, loved its people both native and newer, loved the way it sounded and tasted and smelt. He reminded her that Mandalore was her home. And her home was where her heart was, even if a part of it had ripped itself away and thrown itself halfway across the world. 

And somehow, in the middle of all that, they’d fallen in love. Not that they hadn’t been fond of one another before – it was just more of a relationship of mutual affection, rather than love. They had both loved Ben so much that it had been easier to share than to break either of their hearts. Cody didn’t slide into the Ben-shaped hole in her soul, but he made it feel a little less cavernous. And he had his own space now. In her soul. In her bed. In the little silver ring wrapped around her finger. 

Their friends and Cody’s family had joked it was set to be the longest engagement in history. True, they had been betrothed for several years now, but Satine just didn’t feel right getting married yet. She’d thought Cody would eventually tire of her, but long conversations indicated he felt very much the same. He loved Satine and she loved him – it just wasn’t… time yet. 

Without words, they moved apart and drifted together towards the window. They both knew how much comfort the other took from being able to see an open sky. This city was drab and rainy, and their lower-floor apartment was nothing like the big ranch Cody’s father had owned, but nothing could take the sky from them. Stood together, they watched the rain fall, Cody’s arms warm around her waist. 

She was just thinking about drifting away when the peaceful scene was interrupted by a commotion below. She turned her eyes down to stare, but felt Cody grab her shoulder and pull her down. 

“Get down – he’ll see you!” Cody pushed further so only their eyes were peeping over the windowsill. 

Satine knew if her bigoted grandfather had seen the group, he never would have assumed they were related; in fact, he’d probably have some wicked slurs to growl about all three of them. But she could see just from how they moved how fond they all were of each other, even though the two males seemed to be in some sort of dispute. Closest to the door was a tanned boy with sun-bleached blonde hair cradling a black toddler, occasionally stroking the little white patches on her cheeks with what looked like a prosthetic hand. The man following them would pause every so often, either to adjust the backpack he wore, or to yawn. But once, he stopped entirely, watching the boy and the girl with a look of such exquisite fondness that she knew they couldn’t be anything less than a little family. 

For a moment, her heart felt ready to shatter into a thousand tiny pieces, the last-minute despair threatening to wash over her. This man didn’t look like her Kenobi; he was older, and bearded, moving with more grace than the bouncy Ben she remembered. 

And then…

“Anakin please don’t run with Ahsoka on your shoulders!” A pause, a sigh. The man pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned. “I have a bad feeling about this.” 

“That’s Ben!” She and Cody chorused, then ducked away, praying he hadn’t heard. By the time they risked another look, the group were gone, and the footsteps they could hear in the corridor quickly trailed away. Cody turned to her with a truly brilliant grin. 

“He’s here.” 

*

In the end though, Cody couldn’t bring himself to come with her to finally see Ben. 

Not that she blamed him, of course. Cody liked to pretend he was emotionless, but he’d pined as much as she had when Ben had left. Moreso, even. He’d come from a big family, and the thought of someone he loved disappearing unexpectedly rocked him to his core. She still remembered the way he’d clung to Rex when they’d finally found out Ben was safe, but on the other side of the world, with no sign of returning. 

She, however, had no such qualms. If she could get to him, then Ben deserved to know just how much he had hurt them, and she wanted to hear his excuses with her own ears. None of the university excuses of dropping out due to external pressures. She wanted to know. 

This time, she didn’t hesitate when ringing the doorbell. In fact, she may have rung it one too many times, as the boy who opened the door looked especially grumpy, scowling at her. 

“Can I… help… you?” The boy narrowed his eyes, mouth a thin grim line. Satine noticed how he didn’t quite move back from the door, holding it tight. She tried her most comforting smile. 

“Hello, I’m Satine, your new neighbour. My fiancé and I bought the flat downstairs.” The boy didn’t relax, looking even more confused. “I was wondering if I could speak to your father. Introduce myself.” 

“I’d be impressed if you could talk to my dad.” He replied dryly, before the realisation dawned in his eyes. “Oh, you mean Obi Wan, don’t you?” 

“Yes, I think so.” She swallowed, and decided to come clean. The boy couldn’t be any more suspicious after all. “I think he and I are old friends.” 

“Obi Wan doesn’t have any friends.” 

“Anakin!” A lighter, gentler voice rang out from the room, and the door opened a little more to reveal a young Asian woman, smiling softly. She looked roughly the boy’s age, maybe a few months older, and she held the toddler on her hip with a practised ease. Funny, she hadn’t been part of the procession that entered before but she seemed very comfortable in the place. Maybe she was one of the other surnames that had decorated the door. “Come in, Satine. Any friend of Obi Wan’s is a friend of ours.” 

Satine smiled softly – clearly this young woman had more etiquette than her friend, especially as she passed the toddler to Anakin and started bustling around in the kitchen, filling the kettle and setting it to boil. Yet her movements weren’t the most interesting part of the room. 

Satine had never seen a room quite so full of… stuff. Most striking were the sheer number of houseplants – spiderplants, and lilies and little bonsai trees up against the windowsill. But amongst that were strange mechanical objects too. The television remote looked like it had been modified within an inch of its life, and there were wires and screws everywhere. Amongst the metal tools though were little plastic replicas, and other baby toys too – a little keyboard and a fluffy rabbit and some building blocks that had been arranged into a beautiful ferris wheel. Almost as an afterthought, there were also dozens of little white storage boxes, all neatly labelled and completely empty, their contents spilled around the apartment. 

“Tea or coffee, Miss Satine?” The girl asked, fiddling with an assortment of caddies. The kitchen too was overflowing but also looked strangely barren – all the bottles and tins seemed to be full of spices or drink mixtures, but there seemed to be very little food. The milk carton the girl produced was almost empty, a few dregs clinging to the bottom. 

“Tea please.” She forced herself to swallow and wondered if she should sit. Luckily, the girl nodded towards a patch of sofa that wasn’t covered with Lego or circuit wiring, and Satine took a seat. The girl turned to the caddies behind her. 

“Which one? I think we’ve got just about one of everything.” She paused and thought. “Obi Wan usually serves the earl grey to guests.” 

“Then that will be perfect.” Satine nodded and tried to ignore the looming presence of the boy glaring at her from the only armchair. 

“How do you know Obi Wan?” He growled faintly, and the girl glared at him. 

“Anakin! Manners!” She rolled her eyes but smiled fondly. “Apologies – he was apparently raised in a…” 

An awkward silence followed as both the girl and Padme glanced around the apartment. As full of stimulus as it was, it didn’t exactly feel like the best place to raise a child. The baby was chewing on a screwdriver, for one thing. And there didn’t seem to be a real adult in sight. 

“Anakin, can you go and get Obi Wan? I’m sure he’ll clear up your questions.” The boy grunted and slumped off to a collection of rooms at the back of the apartment. The girl, after handing over a beautiful teacup filled with delicious-smelling tea, settled on the now vacant armchair, gently easing the screwdriver out of the baby’s mouth and settling the girl between her knees, playing with her hair. 

“I know your face.” The girl said after a while, a curious glint in her eyes. “Are you a politician?” 

“A lifetime ago.” Satine smiled ruefully, taking a sip of her drink. Her career had been cut rather short, but she had made enough of an impact to generate some media attention, though she hadn’t expected it to be international. But the girl’s face lit up and she grinned, clapping happily. 

“Oh my God, you’re Satine Kryze!” She gasped. “We learnt all about you in my Women in Politics class! You’re an inspiration – what you’ve done already with the Mandalorian peace treaties-“ 

But all the hero-worship was cut short by approaching footsteps. 

The boy emerged first, looking less sullen and more concerned, shooting a nervous gaze at the young woman. But Satine hardly noticed it because there, in all his sleep-rumpled glory, was Ben Kenobi. 

The years hadn’t started taking much of a toll on Satine, aside from a few wrinkles around her eyes, but Obi Wan looked like he’d aged at least a decade since she’d seen him last. Gone was the clean-shaved, slightly round face she’d loved to cradle in the early mornings, his pretty dimples hidden by just enough stubble to be considered a beard. He’d grown his hair out too, but the bedhead he currently sported reminded her of the spiky ginger tufts she’d spent hours beating into something more presentable before lectures. 

More striking that either of those though was the fact that Ben had lost weight. Rather a lot, if her memory served her correctly. Ben had never been chubby, but there had been a surprising amount of bulk to him in college – broad shoulders, strong arms, and a waist that, depending on the season, either housed sleek abs or the slightest hint of a tummy. This Ben was a tiny little thing, swaddled up in oversized clothes, with worringly prominent wrists and cheekbones. He looked shorter too, or maybe that was just the way his shoulders seemed to permanently hunch in. 

Upon seeing her though, he straightened up, just the slightest bit. He blinked hard, mouth falling open as if about to say something, but never quite forming the words. Satine wanted to kiss the surprise out of him, but settled for a smile, putting down her teacup. 

“Ben? Ben Kenobi?” She felt herself lean forward, wanting to drink in every inch of him. “I hoped it was you. It’s good to see you again.”

Satine wasn’t sure what to expect; her Ben always had a witty little comment, or a devilish little smirk designed specifically to tease her. She’d give her left leg just to hear him say “hello there” one more time. 

However, she did not expect him to glaze over entirely, still blinking at her. What little colour remained in his face quickly seeped out, and it was all she could do to bolt to her feet and catch him before his head hit the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you do when you can't decide whether you want Obi Wan's lover to be Cody or Satine? Simple - it's 2020; we do both! Everyone agrees Obi Wan needs more cuddles anyway ;D 
> 
> Also I really loved BigFatBumblebee's suggestion of Mace as a Mary Poppins figure so he's also going to be in this fic now, watching over Qui Gon's goddamn kids. [Also ahhhh! I love your work BigFatBumblebee - they're like my comfort fics! <3] 
> 
> Hope you liked this chapter - please let me know what you enjoyed and what could be improved! And most importantly, have an awesome day!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We’re both here, Ben.” Gently, the woman took his hand, and raised it to her lips. The gesture made Obi Wan’s eyes flutter shut, and Anakin felt like he should look away. There was something gentle, something intimate, about that kind of touch that he hadn’t seen since Tahl had died. “We found you.” 
> 
> Obi Wan reunites with Satine and Cody. Sort of.

To her credit, the strange woman had incredibly quick reflexes. By the time Anakin had realised Obi Wan was falling, the woman had already jolted forwards, arms wrapped around his waist with a practised ease. Anakin jumped back from his position behind his brother, and helped guide him down until he was lying flat. Obi Wan’s eyes were screwed shut against the brightness of the overhead light. 

“What’s wrong? What’s happening?” Padme asked, easing Ahsoka onto her hip as she tried to peer at Obi Wan. The woman’s hands were flapping all around Obi Wan’s face – she seemed to be trying to fan him – and Anakin pushed them away. 

“Get back – get away from him!” He heard himself snap, but couldn’t bring himself to care at the shocked gasps echoing around the room. If Obi Wan had been pale before, he was grey now – a sickly tinge that Anakin hadn’t seen since Qui Gon’s funeral. He was sweaty too, his damp hair stuck to his forehead. Anakin felt his own palms grow slick.

“Anakin, she’s only trying to-“ As charming as Padme’s voice usually was, Anakin couldn’t think of anything he wanted to hear less. His brother’s breathing came in funny little gasps, as if he were struggling against some strange weight on his chest. Anakin strained to hear, but could barely pick up on the rhythm as the strange woman started to sob. Fixing his most fearsome glare on her, Anakin started to snarl. 

“This is her fault! She stressed him out!” A little part of him, the part that spoke in Obi Wan’s clipped controlled voice, reminded Anakin that his brother had already been stressed that morning, but he hadn’t appeared unwell, just exhausted. “Who even are you anyway?” 

“I-“ The pathetic look on the woman’s face, and the way she stretched a hand out for Obi Wan made Anakin’s stomach clench, and he shook his head. 

“No, I don’t want to hear it.” He felt the heat rising to his cheeks and his jaw ached from where he was clenching his teeth. “Why don’t you just-“ 

“Anakin, that is no way to talk to guests.” Obi Wan’s voice was feeble, but it was enough to soothe Anakin’s burning temper. Glancing down, he saw his brother try to sit up, and fall back, arms trembling. 

“Obi Wan!” Gently, Anakin eased the older man up enough to rest his head against Anakin’s knees, shielding his eyes from the light. “Are you alright? Are you sick?” 

“Inside voices, Anakin.” Obi Wan winced, raising a hand to his head. If he was able to chastise Anakin, he clearly wasn’t at death’s door, but he was pressing his fingers alarmingly hard into his temple, and his eyes weren’t focused. “It’s just a headache – it will pass.” For a moment, Anakin worried his brother had fallen asleep with his eyes open, so soft and distant was his expression. “I had the strangest dream… I thought I saw-“ 

That strange scared look crept back onto Obi Wan’s face, and Anakin was terrified he would faint again. The woman looked equally concerned, leaning in closer. Anakin felt his brother tense, and pulled him back. Obi Wan curled in on himself with a little moan. 

“Get back! Can’t you see you’re making him worse?” Anakin found himself rubbing Obi Wan’s shoulders, desperate to do anything to chase away that horrible pain from his eyes. Obi Wan had never looked so hurt – not at the many funerals they’d attended together, not when he’d broken his leg after a fall down the stairs, not even when he’d had to tell Ahsoka what had happened to Qui Gon. He looked haunted, and Anakin was almost relieved when it morphed into Obi Wan’s usual annoyance. 

“Anakin!” He scolded, turning back to the woman but being unable to meet her eye. “I’m sorry, I didn’t – I don’t –“ His voice kept trickling away, until it managed to settle on a single question. “What are you doing here?” 

“I’m your new neighbour.” A laugh – more of a sob really – bubbled out of the woman’s lips and Obi Wan flinched, tucking his face into Anakin’s torso. He was shaking his head hard now, paying no attention to how much it was hurting him. 

“No, no – you can’t be. You’re in Mandalore – I left you – ah!” The cry that eventually burst from him was sharper than the others, and Anakin reached down to hold him still. 

“Easy, easy Obi Wan.” He tried to keep his voice from shaking, to find that gentle measured tone Obi Wan could always summon when either he or Ahsoka fell ill. It seemed to do enough good to keep Obi Wan still, though he was cringing. 

“Let me get Cody.” Anakin wanted to scream at the thought of more visitors, especially when Obi Wan’s shoulders tightened under his hand. However, the woman looked stern, turning to Padme and the clinging Ahsoka. “He’s a medic, he can help.” 

“Cody’s here?” Obi Wan managed to look up, his eyes wide. His pupils had dilated, but there was something in the crease of his eyebrows that spoke of more than physical pain. When the woman’s hand reached for his, he held back, their fingers fumbling. 

“We’re both here, Ben.” Gently, the woman took his hand, and raised it to her lips. The gesture made Obi Wan’s eyes flutter shut, and Anakin felt like he should look away. There was something gentle, something intimate, about that kind of touch that he hadn’t seen since Tahl had died. “We found you.” 

When the woman moved away, and headed out through the door, it was like two magnets had been tugged apart. Obi Wan – Ben, apparently – flopped down on Anakin’s lap, eyes still closed but breathing easier. The light hit his cheeks enough so that, when he tipped his head, he looked almost skeletal. Anakin felt himself run cold, and kept jiggling his knee to keep Obi Wan out of the ghastly angle.

“Obi?” Ahsoka – who had been so quiet, and so good – croaked out, her little fingers curled around Padme’s jumper. Both girls radiated worry, and clung to each other like anchors in a tumbling sea. Usually, at a time like this, Obi Wan would have something clever to say – a pretty little quip that would make them all laugh. But he said nothing, only just able to keep himself awake as he waited for the woman and her Cody to return. 

Anakin ran a hand through his hair and glanced between his struggling siblings, unsure of what to do. 

He could only hope the pair would arrive quickly. 

*

This was taking too long. 

Anakin paced back and forth, trying to keep his footsteps light enough that they didn’t bother Obi Wan. They’d managed to ease him onto the couch, but the movement had made him gag and whimper, so they’d stilled as soon as he was in place. Padme had pulled out a blanket from the linen cupboard, tucking it around Obi Wan’s waist. He had thanked her, before lapsing into a silence that made Anakin’s blood freeze. Obi Wan was quiet, he always had been, but to hear nothing from him, apart from a few strangled breaths? It made his heart ache. 

Still, he allowed himself to be distracted by the toddler now in his arms. Ahsoka had understood the need for silence, but that didn’t stop her from trying to wriggle towards Obi Wan. It took all of Anakin’s effort to keep her in place, especially as she had figured out how to work around his prosthetic arm. Occasionally, she would turn back with big begging eyes, tugging at his shirt in her desperation to be put down. 

“I’m sorry ‘Soka, but I can’t. Obi needs to sleep.” 

Before a truly great wail could struggle out of his sister, there was a light knock at the door. Thankfully, they hadn’t rung the multitude of bells on the front door, but even the gentle rapping made Obi Wan moan and hide his face in the couch cushions. Padme had to creep to the door to open it. 

The woman was back, her face less creased with worry now that she stood hand in hand with a shorter, stocky man. He was frowning in concern, which creased the beautiful tattoo stretching around one of his eyes. In his other hand, he gripped a black medical kit and when he saw Obi Wan slumped against the couch, he headed straight for him. The bag thumped to the ground loud enough to make Obi Wan flinch. 

“Anything new I should know about – conditions, medicines, injuries?” Despite his briskness, he was incredibly gentle as he skated his fingers over Obi Wan’s head, no doubt feeling the fever. His thumbs came to rest on Obi Wan’s cheeks, and when Obi Wan’s eyes finally battled open, Anakin heard the man’s breath catch. 

“No, nothing new.” Obi Wan whispered, wrapping a hand around the man’s wrist. “Cody-“

“You still taking your medication?” When Cody pulled away, Obi Wan’s hands were left hovering in the air, fingers twitching at the memory of touch. Anakin saw a tightness emerge around the man’s jaw as he pulled out a tiny torch and flashed it into Obi Wan’s eyes. He nodded approvingly at the range of motion, and dug about in his bag for a few packets. 

“Haven’t needed it.” Obi Wan shrugged, and hissed at the motion, but didn’t relax. Cody turned back to him and blinked, forehead creasing. 

“This your first migraine for a while?” There was a beat of silence, as Anakin swallowed. He remembered that word from when Obi Wan was younger, when Tahl would bring him back from school pale and tired. But that had been years ago – nothing had greatly affected his brother’s health in some time. “Be honest, Ben.”

Obi Wan said nothing. He wouldn’t look at anyone now, curling up tighter as he found a loose thread on the couch and fiddled with it. Cody glanced up at the woman, and the two seemed to be having some heated but silent conversation, until Anakin butted in. 

“He gets a lot of headaches. Mostly at night or after a long day.” Obi Wan scowled at the betrayal, but Anakin didn’t look at him. Instead, he thought of the many boxes of painkillers lining their bathroom cabinet, and swallowed. “Won’t take anything stronger than ibuprofen though. Won’t see a doctor either.” 

“What happened to your prescription?” The man asked, softer now. This only made Obi Wan scowl harder, trying to sit up. 

“I said I didn’t need it.” He was shaking now, and it took him far too long to swing his legs around so his feet brushed against the floor. Cody tried to reach for him, but Obi Wan batted him away. “Look, I’ll be fine in a minute, I just need-“ 

Time seemed to slow as Obi Wan tilted forwards, collapsing against the man. Anakin wanted to run forward, but he saw the strong solid arms settle around his brother’s back, stroking in large circles as he led Obi Wan through a series of deep, steadying breaths. When Obi Wan looked up, he saw tears shining on his face. 

“A dark room and a cold compress at the very least. And a bucket.” The man’s thumb returned to Obi Wan’s cheek. He paused, taking in the sharpness of Obi Wan’s bones for the first time. “Have you been sick?” 

Again nothing, though Obi Wan buried his face into Cody’s neck, sighing at the blessed darkness. Cody kept rubbing his back, no doubt feeling the divots in his spine. Anakin had noticed them weeks ago, when he and Ahsoka had soaked Obi Wan with water for a prank. He’d been raging then, his Scottish accent slipping out as he expressed his displeasure. But there’d been a terrifying stillness after Ben had slipped his ruined shirt off, and Anakin had seen how narrow his brother’s waist had gotten, ribs jutting forward and hipbones seeming to slice out of his skin. Obi Wan had quickly hidden away under an enormous jumper, but Anakin hadn’t forgotten the way his brother’s stomach seemed to curve in, flush with his spine. 

“Not that we heard.” Padme said, after an uncomfortably long silence. She stepped forward and took Ahsoka into her arms again, pressing a kiss against the little girl’s hair. Anakin felt cold and empty without her, but at least it allowed him to hide his shaking hands in his pockets. 

“Have you eaten?” Cody asked, pressing his forehead softly to Obi Wan’s. A choked sob trickled out of Obi Wan’s throat at the gesture, though whether it was from the pain or the intimacy, no-one could tell. “When was the last time you-“ 

“Please, I just want to lie down.” No-one – not even Obi Wan – was expecting his voice to crack when it did, but it was enough to pull any other sound from the room. With his chin tucked to his chest, he looked so small, barely whispering. “Everything’s spinning.” 

The strange man paused, and Anakin could see the war waging in his eyes. But eventually, his gentleness shone through, and he carded a hand through Obi Wan’s hair. When this triggered a little huff, he moved closer. Instinctively, Obi Wan curled his arms around the man’s neck. 

“Up we get now, petal.” Gently, he slid his arms around Obi Wan’s skinny waist and lifted him, until he was cradled against his chest. With one slick movement, the stranger got to his feet, but it was enough to make Obi Wan moan, and hide his face in the man’s jumper. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ve got you.” 

“Which one is his room?” The woman asked, clasping her hands in front of her. Anakin nodded towards the furthest door, and the man moved slowly towards it, crooning down at Obi Wan. Still, he took the time to turn back to Anakin and nod. 

“Thanks kid.” And like that, he was gone, taking Obi Wan with him. In the silence of the flat, Anakin could hear the man talking, and moving around sheets until Obi Wan was settled. Ahsoka, however, was not so eased, her little hand reaching towards the now-closed door.

“Obi!” She wailed, and Anakin could sense an enormous cry building in her eyes, but Padme rubbed the baby’s chubby thigh and nuzzled her hair. 

“He’ll be fine, Ahsoka – he just needs a nap. Would you like to nap too? Let’s go to Ani’s room.” She too turned away, lingering only for a moment. “Let’s give those two some privacy, shall we?” 

And then there were two. 

Anakin turned to the woman, surprised to see the worry still etched onto her face. She would have been pretty without it, he realised, just like the man. She wasn’t quite wringing her hands, but she was playing with the delicate little ring locked around her finger. Had the man had one too? He’d not been paying attention. Were they together? Then why were they both so- 

And yet, as he remembered Obi Wan’s pained moans, he realised he didn’t much care for their affection. Something the couple had done had hurt Obi Wan, or at least made him worse, and he wanted answers. If those explanations also included why they called him Ben, or why they touched him so gently, that would just be a bonus. 

Squaring up in front of her, Anakin watched the woman carefully. She was slender, and taller than him, but he knew appearances could be deceiving. No matter how skinny Obi Wan got, he was still able to scoop Anakin up in his arms, even after his latest growth spurt. But Anakin was strong too, and this woman didn’t scare him. He’d seen worse, plenty worse. 

Scowling, he folded his arms and held firm, even as a little wail erupted from one of the bedrooms. 

“Look, I don’t know who you are, or how you know Obi Wan, but you better explain yourself, or I’m going to call the police.” 

The woman looked shocked, and Anakin remembered the thread of conversation before he’d brought Obi Wan to his ill-fated meeting. Was this woman a politician? Was the man her security guard? Who exactly had he just threatened? 

But he stopped and took a deep breath, turning on his heel. Settling on the only armchair, he smiled, and nodded towards the sofa for the woman to do the same. 

He was Anakin Skywalker, son of Qui Gon Jinn, brother of Obi Wan Kenobi. Dramatic gestures came to him like air to his lungs.   
Lacing his fingers together he watched as she took her seat back. Her hand lingered where Obi Wan had only minutes ago lain his head. 

“So start talking.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there's the next chapter! I couldn't help but write it as Anakin - the boy had a lot to say - but I think it'll be Cody's turn next time. 
> 
> Thank you everyone for your patience with this story. In truth, I don't know when it will next update. All the reasons for my hiatus are still in place - my relative passed away, and I'm trying to deal with that. Plus with Coronavirus, I'm currently in lockdown at home, and my university life has been lightly tossed into the bin. But writing this helps, so maybe there will be more of it, or other work. 
> 
> I hope, at least, it fills a bit of a gap in your days. To everyone reading, stay safe - take care of yourself and your loved ones - and I'll see you on the other side. 
> 
> H

**Author's Note:**

> Haha! A cliffhanger! Not done one of those before! 
> 
> Comment below with who you'd like to see having resurfaced into Obi Wan's life - I have a few ideas but I'd be interested to see which is the most popular :D 
> 
> Also, let me know if you liked the fic or the premise - I really had fun writing it <3


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